


We'll Paint the Moon

by n00dl3Gal



Series: Spray It, Don't Say It [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Cuban Lance (Voltron), Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Graffiti, Implied Sexual Content, Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, Keith and Shiro are roommates, Korean Keith (Voltron), Lance doesn't care about gender roles, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Angst, Mothman references, Multi, Pidge and Keith are cryptid buddies, Salt about season 2, Spray It Don't Say it, Street artist au, They're 18-20 don't worry, Too Many "Aristotle and Dante" references, Trans Keith (Voltron), Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-10
Updated: 2017-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-30 10:20:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10874760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/n00dl3Gal/pseuds/n00dl3Gal
Summary: A weekend of Netflix and Chinese takeout leaves Shiro with a new roommate, Allura with no regrets, Lance with blackmail material, and Keith with the biggest revelation since his gender.At least Pidge, Hunk, and Shay had a good time.Takes place after "Banksy-Ass Wannabe."





	We'll Paint the Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, hello, I have returned! And with a full length fic, no less. I hope you're ready for a copious amount of fluff and plotless rambling... 
> 
> Special thanks to cubanbisexuallance (and the rest of the Lancecord), 7imothysucks, lightoflunaris, and screwitanddoitanyway! 7imothysucks also made MORE amazing fanart for chapter 3 ("Red Lion Has Tagged You in a Post") of "Picasso and Street Lamps," check it out here: https://n00dl3gal.tumblr.com/post/160532490582/7imothysucks-i-loved-this-scene-from-n00dl3gal
> 
> Songs that helped inspire this chapter:  
> "Don't Threaten Me With a Good Time" by Panic! At the Disco  
> "Seal It With a Kiss" by Prince Royce  
> "Wouldn't It Be Nice" by The Beach Boys

Keith didn’t think too hard when Shiro said he’d be out of town for the weekend. He just invited Lance and his friends over and ordered takeout. 

“Did he tell you why he’s skipping town?” Hunk asks, scooping another serving of General Tso’s chicken on his plate. 

Keith shakes his head. There’s a beer in his hand and his boyfriend’s feet in his lap. “Nah, but he’s a cop. Something might have happened  in another town and they needed his help.” 

“I wouldn’t worried too much, honey. If Keith’s calm, it’s probably fine,” Shay says. Behind her, Pidge sets down her eggroll to gag. 

Lance swallows the last of his dumpling and raises his bottle. “I agree with Shay. Keith isn’t freaking, and he freaks out over everything.” 

“I do not!” 

“Babe, you once threw the  _ escoba _ at the air conditioner when it made a strange noise,” Lance says, lifting an eyebrow. 

As Keith throws a pillow in Lance’s face, yelling “that was one time!”, Pidge pulls out her phone and taps rapidly. “There aren’t any calls for outside forces in a fifty mile radius. I can look wider, but I’d need my laptop.” 

“Did you hack into the police scanner frequency again?” Lance asks. Pidge grins sheepishly. “Goddammit, Pidge!” 

“You weren’t complaining when that tracker I built for you saved your ass from being arrested,” Hunk counters. Lance launches his dirty fork at him, which causes Keith to toss a handful of lo mein in his boyfriend’s face. There’s a shout of “food fight!” from Pidge and chaos erupts. 

Shay laughs as a green bean whizzes by her ear. “Hunk was right, you guys _ are  _ more fun than my sorority.” 

. . .

There are many casualties in the Great Chinese Takeout Feud, most notably Keith’s jacket and several throw pillows and blankets. Once things are cleaned up and put on spin cycle, the gang calms. Booze and food have placated them. Shay and Lance are painting each other’s nails; Hunk is on the verge of passing out; Keith and Pidge huddle around her laptop. “So he was last spotted in Nevada…”    


“That’s hours away from here. Could he have flown?” Keith asks. 

“Are you guys stalking Shiro?” Lance groans, swiping a line of yellow over Shay’s ring finger. 

Pidge snorts. “We’re looking for Mothman, dumbass.” 

“That just might be worse,” Shay declares, blowing on her nails. “Alright, Lance, let these dry and I’ll paint yours.” 

“You got it- oh. My. God!” Lance squeals when he turns around and sees Keith, curled up on the couch. “You’re wearing my hoodie!”    


Keith shrugs, and the sleeves unroll from his elbows. “Um, yeah?” Cuz you threw a plate of orange chicken on  _ my  _ jacket.” He brushes the bangs out of his eyes- or tries to. The sleeves have covered his fingers and flap uselessly against his hair. 

Lance shrieks again. “Babe, you have sweater paws! I can’t handle the cute!” He lunges himself at his boyfriend, nuzzling his cheek, and pushing Pidge half off the sofa. 

“Oh, God, they’re gonna fuck,” Hunk moans from the floor. “I’m gonna need another shot to handle that.”

“Bro, you’re asleep after one Miller Lite, we aren’t letting you near hard liquor. Secondly, we can go to the bedroom. Geez,” Lance says, pulling himself away from peppering Keith with kisses to speak. Keith, more affectionate from inebriation, yanks him back down. 

Shay sighs, watching the pair making out on the couch. “I’m not gonna paint his nails, am I?”

“Nope,” Pidge deadpans, popping the “P.” “Anybody up for Netflix?”

. . .

“I can’t believe they made him being not 100% human canon,” Shay says as the credits roll. Somehow, they managed to watch an entire season in five hours. 

Lance lets out a barking laugh. “I can’t believe they skimped on my favorite character’s development when the writers promised some!” 

“Dude, tell me about it… our guys were just comic relief… I thought I could trust them…” Hunk laments groggily. 

Keith shrugs. “I thought this season was good.” 

“Yeah, but  _ your  _ fave got literally all the focus. And they teased that dumb crack ship of yours,” Lance grumbles, laying his head in Keith’s lap. 

Pidge groans and shuts her laptop. “I’m not dealing with a ship war right now. Besides, it’s nearly midnight. I need to get home.” 

“So do I,” Shay says, hoisting Hunk to his feet with her. “And I need to get this dork in bed. His  _ own  _ bed,” she adds quickly. “Pidge, want a ride?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Shay.” 

Farewells are exchanged, hugs are traded, and soon only Keith and Lance remain. “You gonna head home too?” Keith asks quietly. 

Lance smirks and pulls his boyfriend toward him, one hand cupping his cheek, the other on his ass. “Hmm, I think I’d rather head something else.” 

“That was awful but I really wanna bone right now so I’ll excuse it,” Keith exhales quickly, pressing their bodies and lips together.

They collide sloppily, both still a little drunk, and gasp and moan with each tooth clacked together. Piece by piece, they strip, leaving a breadcrumb trail of clothes to Keith’s bedroom. 

Lance knows he’ll have multiple hickeys in the morning, and that doesn’t bother him at all.

. . .

They lie in the afterglow, breaths intermingling, gentle kisses being shared as they fall asleep. Lance looks beautiful, Keith thinks, with his bangs sticky with sweat and eyelashes fluttering slightly.

It’s a nice sight to fall asleep to. 

He takes Lance’s hand, bringing it to his mouth, lips brushing the knuckles. It’s something so sappy and chaste that normally Keith would kick himself for even considering. But Lance… there’s something special about him. Something that makes Keith feel warm and off-kilter and just… happy. It’s a good feeling, whatever it is. 

As Lance kisses his forehead, Keith allows sleep to overtake him. In the last few seconds of awareness- or maybe it’s already his dream- he hears Lance whisper to him. 

_ “I… you, Keith.”  _

. . .

“God… ah, fuck… m’head…” Keith mumbles, squeezing his eyes tight. Above him, Lance giggles.

“Somebody’s hungover,” he singsongs, causing Keith to groan harder and roll face down into his pillow. “Alright, alright, I’ll go make us some breakfast. You need grease, babe. Soak up all that alcohol.” 

“What I need is twenty painkillers and a muzzle for you,” he snaps back. Lance just laughs harder and cheerily skips out of the bedroom. “God, how come you never get a hangover…” 

He lays in bed, arm over his face, mulling over the previous night. Right, Shiro’s out of town so he invited the gang over. And then he got drunk and had sex with Lance, nothing new. But… didn’t Lance say something as they went to bed? Or did he imagine it? “What did he say… something about me…” 

_ I… hate? No… Fuck? Well, yes, but not what he said… Like? Close… Lo- no way. He- did he say?  _

_ Did… did Lance say he loves me? _

He sits up rapidly, causing another wave of pain to shoot through his body.  _ Lance wouldn’t have just said it when I was half asleep like that! It must have been a dream… Wait. Does that mean that I- _

Keith had his suspicions, but he never wanted to act on them. Any past attempts at a confession were… not well received. He has a hard enough time opening up to people as it is; this level of complete and utter openness was uncharted territory. 

But with Lance, things are so simple. So easy. They are the most unlikely of pairs but it’s logical, you know? What should have been oil and water is instead perfect harmony. They are equilibrium, and Keith cherishes that. If nothing else, Lance makes him feel wanted. Something that past partners- and most of the families he was shipped off to- never gave him.

_ Holy shit, I love Lance.  _

It’s an odd realization to have while hungover and wearing your brother’s t-shirt and pajama pants, but there’s something natural about it that makes Keith smile. With a strained moan, he pushes himself off the bed, grabs his phone, and trudges into the kitchen. Lance is humming some Pitbull song when Keith plops down in the wooden chair. “I made you fried eggs and sausage. Ideally you’d have bacon, but,” Lance says dramatically, setting down his spatula, “for some God-forsaken reason, there is no bacon in this apartment.” 

“Shiro’s a vegetarian, and I don’t really eat much for breakfast anyway. I didn’t even know we had sausage.” 

“Well that explains why it’s veggie sausage, at least,” Lance murmurs, flipping over the eggs onto a plate. “Although you do like some sausages, amirite?” The quip is accompanied by an overdone wink. 

Keith rolls his eyes. “Dude, that was disgusting. You’re not wrong, though.” 

Lance laughs- the same laugh from earlier this morning that Keith loves- and slides him his breakfast. “Bon appetit, babe.” 

It’s simple, domestic, idealistic. He could get used to a life like this. Daily breakfasts with Lance, sex and cuddling at night, spending all day together without the threat of one having to return home. 

“Move in with me.” 

The words spill past his lips without a thought, but Keith doesn’t try to take them back. Lance turns and stares him down. With the added attention, Keith fidgets and begins to stammer. “I-I mean, you’re here all the time anyway a-and Shiro’s always at Allura’s, you hate your-your roommate and this apartment is bigger and nicer s-so it would work, it’s st-still close to school-” 

“Keith,” Lance says, cutting him off, “do you mean it?” His eyes are wide, expectant. 

_ Yes, of course I do, you moron!   _ Keith thinks briefly. Then he wonders:  _ this could be my chance to see if that really was a dream.  _ So he sucks in a breath through his nose, and asks: “Did you mean what you said last night?” 

Keith isn’t fantastic at reading emotions, but Lance is painfully obvious when it comes to what he’s feeling (most of the time). He watches the flicker of confusion pass his boyfriend’s face, followed by the cloud of fear and apprehension. There’s a glance around the kitchen, a deep breath, and finally a steely yet affectionate gaze directly into Keith’s eyes. “Y-yeah, I do. I do, Keith.” 

He can feel the red crawl up his neck. “O-oh, cuz-cuz that’s good, y’know? That you mean it, and I d-do, the whole moving in thing. You don’t have to b-but I’d like to have us live together a-and I-I um, I feel the same-” 

“Babe, breath. You don’t have to say it-” 

_ He seriously doesn’t realize I’m head over heels for him? God, he really is a moron.  _ Keith pushes his chair back, walks over to Lance, and grabs his face. “Lance Fuentes, I am absolutely, one hundred percent in love with you.” 

Lance’s breath is rank- not that Keith’s is likely much better- but the sappy giggles that bubble beneath Lance’s lips and the warmth of his embrace, the knowledge that  _ yes, someone loves you, Keith Kwon, despite being one of the most fucked-up people on the planet-  _ that makes it worth it. “I love you, I love you, I love you, _cariño_ _ , _ ” Lance repeats, pressing fleeting kisses to Keith’s cheekbones, jawline, nose, eyelids. Keith just squeezes his boyfriend tighter into his chest. 

“Holy cow, I love you- we’re gonna  _ live  _ together- where’s my phone, I gotta call my mom- babe.” Lance’s face is serious, but still with a muscle-cracking grin. “I don’t have to live with that  _ cabeza de pinga  _ anymore. It’s like a dream come true.” 

Keith kisses his forehead. “You have no idea, Lance.” 

. . .

They spend the rest of the day doing essentially nothing. Well, there’s the ever-looming threat of homework lingering over them, but it’s Saturday. Lance does his Saturday facial, Keith sketches his next spray… and they kiss. A lot.

Apparently, confessing that you love somebody makes you extremely affectionate. Lance isn’t complaining, though. It’s rare that he gets to see a more vulnerable, caring side to Keith. He knows it exists, but it only ever seems to surface when Keith’s drunk or feeling particularly needy and depressed. It’s nice and almost calming to know it can appear when he’s at peace. 

When evening rolls around, they curl up against one another on the couch, eating reheated leftovers from the night prior. Keith has his binder off underneath his sweatshirt and Lance nearly wants to cry. His boyfriend is comfortable enough around him to not be ashamed of his body. Instead, he settles for placing a kiss on Keith’s forehead. 

“OK, I love your kisses, and I love you-” Lance almost starts giggling from giddiness- “but I wanna know how this book ends. C’mon, there’s only a few pages left, right?”

It’s a simple tradition they have- while one of them draws, the other reads aloud from a novel. They alternate each week. Currently, Lance is reciting the end of  _ Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe-  _ a favorite of Lance’s for a while. Not because it stars a Latino LGBT character that he can project onto, nope. 

“Yeah, yeah. Where were we… ah,” Lance murmurs, before sitting up straight. Keith leans back against his side. “‘We stood there for a long time. Neither one of us said anything. I felt small and insignificant and inadequate. I hated feeling that way. I was going to stop feeling that way…’” He continued reading, voice gentle, nuzzling a little more into Keith when Ari and Dante finally kissed. “‘I took Dante’s hand and held it. How could I have ever been ashamed of loving Dante Quintana?’” Lance sets the book down on the coffee table. “The end. Whatcha think, babe?”

Keith hums, letting his sketchbook fall to the floor. “It’s a good book, babe. You remind me a lot of Dante.” 

Lance laughs. “That’s good, cuz you remind me of Ari.” It’s silent for a moment, when suddenly Lance asks: “Keith… were you ashamed of loving me?”

Keith doesn’t answer at first, but eventually he exhales and shakes his head. “Not ashamed, no… but afraid.” 

“But why? I’d never hurt you or anything,” Lance assures him, adjusting himself so Keith’s head lay in his lap. “You know this.” 

Keith gnaws at his lower lip, clearly unsure of what to say. “I know you wouldn’t, but… I’m not used to love, Lance. Not in the way you are. It takes me a while to admit that I love something- or somebody- just ask Shiro.” He reaches up to play with the strand of hair falling out of Lance’s barrette. “I was with the Shiroganes for four months before I finally opened up to them. That’s why it took me until this morning to really recognize it.” 

Lance blinks. “Wa-wait, this morning? Babe, you hadn’t thought about it all?”

“It’s not like I didn’t love you!” Keith counters, ears fading into pink. “I… I needed time, and once I realized that you had said it, I guess my brain finally felt comfortable enough to admit it.” 

“Oh…” Lance whispers, face somber. After a few seconds, he smiles gently at Keith. “Hey, I’m not upset. I’m proud of you for telling me- and yourself. And I love you. I love you so much.” 

Keith grins back, eyes a little wet, but he pulls Lance’s face to bring their lips together. “I love you too. And I’m so happy I can say that.” 

. . .

The next morning is about as frighteningly domestic as the prior. They laugh and exchange sleepy kisses while making waffles. Keith relishes in it before he realizes this could be potentially every day from now on. Lance is going to  _ live  _ with him. 

Shit, what about Shiro?

He scrambles out of the kitchen- much to Lance’s confusion- and pulls his phone out from under his bed. He’s about to text his brother, explaining the situation, but pauses when he notices the string of messages from Pidge.

__Pidge 3:28 AM: hey so i was looking at the cryptid site, spec. the mothman page  
Pidge 3:29 AM: and i recognized the ip it was last edited from  
Pidge 3:29 AM: it’s allura’s place  
Pidge 3:30 AM: i did some digging, turns out someone in there bought a pair of plane tickets to las vegas then edited the page  
Pidge 3:35 AM: and who is dating allura

Keith dashes back to the kitchen, where Lance hasn’t moved an inch. “What the hell was that?” 

“I- I think Allura and Shiro went to Vegas,” Keith says rapidly. “She- she edited the Mothman page, and she bought tickets, a-and Pidge-” 

Lance groans, sliding dramatically into his chair. “Of  _ course  _ it was Pidge- look, babe, I know she’s your friend, and she’s mine too, but she has been known to pull pranks. Don’t believe her.” He punctuates his words with a wave of waffle-covered fork. 

Keith shakes his head. “No, I-I think she’s telling the truth this time. I mean, why else would Shiro just take off like this? It’s not like him, and I know I said I wouldn’t worry but-” 

As if on cue, the door opens, revealing a giggling Shiro and Allura. In a bizarre mirror to a Mexican standoff, the four glance around each other. 

“Lance, I see you stayed overnight,” Shiro says quietly, lips tight. “How are you?” 

“Where the  _ fuck  _ did you go, Shiro? I mean, hi Allura, it’s always nice to see you- but what the actual living shit was all of this? Why’d you suddenly skip town? If it wasn’t for Lance-” Keith babbles on, berating his brother for leaving him.

Meanwhile, Lance looks between their flushed faces, clutched hands, the gold on their fingers. Pidge’s message falls into place and completes the narrative. “What the cheese,” he whispers, before shouting “YOU TWO GOT HITCHED IN VEGAS?”

Keith whips to glare at him, unbelieving. “Lance, what the hell? They didn’t get…” His voice trails off as he watches the older two glance at each other bashfully. “No. No way. Shiro, please tell me you didn’t elope.” 

“Technically, it wasn’t eloping,” Allura says, burying her face in Shiro’s shoulder. 

“Oh my God,” Keith groans, falling backwards onto the couch. “Mom and Dad are gonna kill you.” 

Shiro doesn’t answer, instead staring at Lance, jaw slack. “How-how did you know?”

Lance shrugs. “I mean, it was obvious once I thought about it. You vanish for a weekend, and then you and Allura buy tickets for Vegas and edit Keith’s favorite cryptid site to distract him. Then you show up blushing and with  _ rings.  _ Like, come on.” He smirks, satisfied and smug. “Doesn’t take Sherlock to figure this one out.” Shiro and Allura wince. “But if it helps, I only  _ just  _ got it,” he adds when he observes their reaction. “My real question is… why?”

Keith pushes himself up from the sofa. “Yeah, I’m wondering that, too. You’ve… you’ve only been dating for ten months and now you’re married?” he screeches. “All your talk of ‘patience yields focus’ and then you get wed by Elvis in a casino? Wait- HOLY SHIT, DID YOU GET ALLURA PREGNANT?”

“YOU’RE PREGNANT?” Lance echoes, equally loud. 

“Both of you, quiet!” Allura yells, moving in front of Shiro. “First of all, stop screaming. People may still be sleeping. Secondly, I am not pregnant. Lastly,  _ I  _ was the one who proposed. As to why Takashi agreed… well, he can explain for himself. Go on, dear,” she says softly, kissing his cheek. “Tell them what you told me.”   


Shiro exhales and nods. “When Allura asked me, at first I didn’t want to, but… I realized that yes, we’re young, and maybe we’re rushing, but I have never felt this way about anybody ever. We both wanted to spend every minute by each other’s side.” He focuses on Keith, a gentle and knowing look at his dark eyes. “Do you know what I mean? Being in love and doing something that might be drastic, but feels so right?”

The past weekend rushes by Keith. Wearing Lance’s hoodie, confessing, asking him to move in. Going without his binder and not feeling uncomfortable. He glances at his boyfriend, who gives him a small, encouraging smile. “Yeah, actually,” he says finally. “I think I know what you mean.” 

Shiro grins back at his brother. “Man, I, for one, am very relieved you got hitched. Makes it less awkward when I move in!” Lance exclaims. 

The older man blinks. “Keith Kwon, did you ask your boyfriend to live with you without my permission?” Shiro asks, any joy and compassion gone. 

Keith gulps. “You-you’re never here anyways, a-and Allura- house- Lance, help?”

“Kick his ass, babe!” 

“Not helping!” 

Allura laughs and grabs Shiro by the waist, holding him back. “Easy there, Lion. Congrats, you two.” 

“Same to you,” Lance says sincerely. “By the way,  _ did  _ you get married by an Elvis impersonator?” He plops onto the couch beside the still-trembling Keith. 

She nods. “I demanded it, I wanted the full Vegas experience.”

“I wish you hadn’t, he reeked of peanut butter and banana,” her husband whimpers. Allura says something about authenticity and she and Lance burst into laughter. Meanwhile, Keith watches his boyfriend, smiling slightly.

Yeah, he’s pretty sure he knows  _ exactly  _ what Shiro means. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know what you thought in the comments and any constructive criticisms you might have. 
> 
> I'll see you all again in June with the return of "Picasso and Street Lamps!" 
> 
> Spanish translations:  
> "Escoba:" broom  
> "Cariño:" term of endearment (love, darling)  
> "Cabeza de pinga:" dickhead


End file.
